Sleepover At Mattie's
by Popsicle-Apocalypse
Summary: *T: language* *RE-UPLOADED* "Matt, bro, I think we should have a snack break!" America said out of nowhere, placing his left fist in his right, cupped hand. "We can have a bajillion of those maple cookies you love so much. And plus, I brought popcorn with like, a trillion different toppings!" He said excitedly, trying to erase what had just happened.


**A/N: This is really old like I don't even watch this anymore but USxCA shall always be a brotp of mine huzzah**

**Warning: nothin idk**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya**

* * *

_Sleepover At Mattie's_

Sleepover.

Slumber party.

Staying up all night talking about shit nobody cares about.

Whatever you called it, Matthew and Alfred were having one right this moment. Why? Because America insisted that:

_"Damn, Mattie! We don't spend enough time together, and I spend __way__ too much time with ol' Iggy! We need to do something _epic_together!"_

Which lead to Alfred going over to Matthew's place for two nights. Matthew's home had an extra room, but it wasn't a guest room; it was purposely made for whenever America decided to visit. There was a room just like it at Alfred's, though the two were designed completely different. Canada's extra room had a New York City theme to it, while America's had a Northern Quebec one. Alfred did something wrong, however; he had pictures painted on the walls. The paintings were those of, well...things like 'escargot' and 'baguette' and many other French delicacies. Matthew loved it of course, but mentioned nothing about the 'too much Francis' feeling it gave off.

The two were currently in Matthew's living room, which consisted of a glass fireplace, a couple leather sofas, a wide-screen TV and a coffee table. Connected to the TV were a few gaming systems, some of which not even America played. Like the Wii. Who's stupid invention was that, anyway? He'd ask Japan about it later. Right now, they were each holding a wireless remote for the PlayStation3, and were playing Alfred's copy of _Call of Duty: Black Ops_, since supposedly Matthew didn't have the game himself.

"Ugh! Mattie, did you _see_ that? I totally got him first! I seriously shot him like five times!" Alfred suddenly yelled out, jerking the remote around as if to affect is gaming.

"You're gonna break something if you keep doing that." Canada warned, still looking at the screen. He had just killed his seventh player in a row. Alfred noticed this and muttered, "Not bad for a Canadian." and continued moving his remote.

"Al, seriously, don't move the remote so much. It has no effect on the game itself." Matthew glared at his brother this time, and Alfred just nodded, paying no attention to his younger yet seemingly more mature sibling.

"Geez, Matt, stop being so...Iggy...ish! How can I possibly break—" as if on cue, America lost his grip on the controller and it went flying right into the fireplace, sending shards of glass soaring all over the room. "...It." Alfred paused a moment, got up and walked over to the fireplace. Matthew just sighed, expecting _something _to go wrong.

"I think I broke it..." America stated bluntly, as if Canada was mentally challenged. Said brother walked up to the older nation and stood next to him, hands on hips.

"Yeah, I noticed when the pieces of glass kind of exploded everywhere." He replied sourly, now folding his arms. After a few moments of awkward, _awkward _silence, Matthew unfolded his arms and walked back to the couch. "You're paying for a new one." He simply said, starting the game again.

"Matt, bro, I think we should have a snack break!" America said out of nowhere, placing his left fist in his right, cupped hand. "We can have a bajillion of those maple cookies you love so much. And plus, I brought popcorn with like, a trillion different toppings!" He said excitedly, trying to erase what had just happened. He bent down to pick up the somewhat malfunctioning remote and tossed it on the couch next to Matthew.

"So? How does that sound? Mattie? Matt? _Matthew_!"

"Oh, yeah, that sounds...excellent, actually."

"Geez, just buy the game yourself why don't you."

"Can't; it's not finished being translated into French yet. And you know the rules..."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand." Alfred waved a hand and walked over to the kitchen. "So, what'll it be? The bajillon maple cookies or the popcorn with the trillion toppings? Or...both?"

"Whatever you feel like, Alfred." Canada replied, hands still gripping the remote. Yet again, another thick fog of silence found its way into the house.

"So...!" America rubbed his hands together, and opened Matthew's pantry. Canada had things like canned tuna (most likely for Kuma), maple syrup, maple cookies, cereal, chips and other things that would normally be found in pantry. "Oi, Matt. Your pantry is so Canadian!" He remarked, pulling out the box of cookies and the bottle of syrup.

"What's that supposed to—mmph!" Canada had no time to react before his brother shoved a cookie dipped in syrup into his mouth. He had no choice but to chew or to spit it out and make a sticky mess everywhere. So, he just savoured the maple goodness and when he finished, he swallowed loudly. "What was that for?" he asked, though his temper had yet to burst.

"It's good, ain't it?" Alfred inhaled another three cookies before talking again. "Man, this is so much better than Vermont's bullshit syrup." To this, his brother laughed.

* * *

"What time is it...?" Canada moaned from his couch in the living room. The two had been watching movies, though they were ones the brothers had already seen. The films were relatively boring and had no purpose at all to be aired. Alfred shifted over and cranked his neck to the left, looking at the clock on the wall. It took him a few seconds before he realized he had taken off his glasses. He put them back on and looked at the clock again.

"'s three in the fucking mornin'." He replied lazily, "Have we seriously been watching these shit movies for eight hours?" He turned to face his brother who was barely half awake on the other couch. Canada shrugged.

"Geez, thanks for the help, Matt. I appreciate it." He said sarcastically. He then turned off the TV and got up. He stretched and signalled Matthew to do the same. When he didn't get a response, he sighed and walked over to the other couch to find his brother softly snoring, meaning he was out cold. "Fuck, Mattie. Ruin the fun why don'tya." He brought his hand up and quickly whacked it down on Matthew's shoulder, who's owner gave a yelp of surprise.

"I'm up, I'm up!" He quickly defended, proving his point by standing and placing his arms in front of him.

"Come on, if you're gonna crash at a sleepover—in your own house, I might add—you might wanna do it in some PJs or something instead of jeans and a hoodie. Might be a lil bit more comfy." At the word 'lil', America made a 'small' motion with his fingers. Canada laughed tiredly and the two walked up the stairs.


End file.
